Charlotte P Lambert

  
“What did you see on the video?” Mishka asked in a whisper. She could not keep her curiosity to herself. She needed to know even before dinner.  
“We saw Myrtle call the cat into the nursery and then she fed it a live rat. She wasn’t even afraid to hold onto the rat by its tail,” Gillian responded.
***
While Mishka Classens practices her singing in the woods one afternoon she runs into Bruce Cameron, a handsome, famous fashion designer. 
When she confides in her friend, Gillian’s mother about the meeting, Joan tells her that Bruce is an estranged cousin of Joan’s and that he is a werewolf. 
So, Joan wants Mishka to keep Gillian away from Bruce and keep the family secret, but Gillian already has a crush on him.
Bruce wants to be a normal human because his human family does not accept him as a wolf, but he also loves his unusual powers and diverse creativity. 
Eventually he and Mishka confide in each other about their burdens in life and become close with regular meetings in the woods, where they exchange creative ideas about fashion and music. They also plan to do shows together. 
Myrtle, Mishka’s bossy grandmother is an undercover fortune teller. She had a premonition about Mishka being involved with a werewolf one day, so she wants to orchestrate Mishka’s life so that this will never happen. 
She almost has a heart attack when she finds out that Mishka is involved with Bruce. She tries everything in her power to split them apart.
After a series of weird and bad events, Mishka and Bruce find out that Myrtle is causing the problems in their lives and in their relationship. They decide to join forces against her by confusing her spells, making them powerless.



The Siren and the Wolf

For a moment that seemed to stretch infinitely, the chamber hung in perfect stillness. The hub's strange, living mechanisms froze mid-pulse. The fragmenting walls suspended between existence and dissolution. Even Bruce and Nathaniel appeared caught in amber, their expressions fixed in shock. 


Only Mishka and the impossible, younger version of her father remained animated in the frozen tableau. 


"Dad?" she whispered, her voice sounding hollow in the suspended space. 


He stepped forward, each movement creating ripples in the air as if he were walking through invisible water. The lab coat he wore was pristine, exactly as it appeared in photos from Catherine's lab—the day of the accident. 


"Not exactly," he said. His voice carried the familiar timbre of her father's, but with an underlying resonance that vibrated in her bones. "I've borrowed this form because it's one you'll listen to." 


Mishka gripped the disk tighter. "You're one of them. The frequencies." 


Harmonic Dissonance